CHAPTER XL. VAUXHALL
Matters had come to a pretty pickle indeed. I was openly warned atBrooks's and elsewhere to beware of the duke, who was said upon variousauthority to be sulking in Hanover Square, his rage all the moredangerous because it was smouldering. I saw Dolly only casually beforethe party to Vauxhall. Needless to say, she flew in the face of Dr.James's authority, and went everywhere. She was at Lady Bunbury's drum,whither I had gone in another fruitless chase after Mr. Marmaduke.Dr. Warner's verse was the laughter of the company. And, greatly to myannoyance,--in the circumstances,--I was made a hero of, and showeredwith three times as many invitations as I could accept.
The whole story got abroad, even to the awakening of the duke in CoventGarden. And that clownish Mr. Foote, of the Haymarket, had added somelines to a silly popular song entitled 'The Sights o' Lunnun', withwhich I was hailed at Mrs. Betty's fruit-stall in St. James's Street.Here is one of the verses:
"In Maryland, he hunts the Fox From dewy Morn till Day grows dim; At Home he finds a Paradox, From Noon till Dawn the Fox hunts him."
Charles Fox laughed when he heard it. But he was serious when he came tospeak of Chartersea, and bade me look out for assassination. I had Banksfollow me abroad at night with a brace of pistols under his coat, albeitI feared nothing save that I should not have an opportunity to meet theduke in a fair fight. And I resolved at all hazards to run Mr. Marmadukedown with despatch, if I had to waylay him.
Mr. Storer, who was forever giving parties, was responsible for thisone at Vauxhall. We went in three coaches, and besides Dorothy and Mr.Marmaduke, the company included Lord and Lady Carlisle, Sir Charles andLady Sarah Bunbury, Lady Ossory and Lady Julia Howard, two Miss Stanleysand Miss Poole, and Comyn, and Hare, and Price, and Fitzpatrick, thelatter feeling very glum over a sum he had dropped that afternoon toLord Harrington. Fox had been called to St. Stephen's on more printer'sbusiness.
Dolly was in glowing pink, as I loved best to see her, and lookeddivine. Comyn and I were in Mr. Manners's coach. The evening wasfine and warm, and my lady in very lively spirits. As we rattled overWestminster Bridge, the music of the Vauxhall band came "throbbingthrough the still night," and the sky was bright with the reflectionof the lights. It was the fashion with the quality to go late; andso eleven o'clock had struck before we had pulled up between Vauxhallstairs, crowded with watermen and rough mudlarks, and the veryordinary-looking house which forms the entrance of the great garden.Leaving the servants outside, single-file we trailed through the darkpassage guarded by the wicketgate.
"Prepare to be ravished, Richard," said my lady, with fine sarcasm.
"You were yourself born in the colonies, miss," I retorted. "I confessto a thrill, and will not pretend that I have seen such sights oftenenough to be sated."
"La!" exclaimed Lady Sarah, who had overheard; "I vow this isrefreshing. Behold a new heaven and a new earth, Mr. Carvel?"
Indeed, much to the amusement of the company, I took no pains to hide myenthusiasm at the brilliancy of the scene which burst upon me. A greatorchestra rose in the midst of a stately grove lined on all four sideswith supper-boxes of brave colours, which ran in straight tiers orswept around in circles. These were filled with people of all sorts andconditions, supping and making merry. Other people were sauntering underthe trees, keeping step with the music. Lamps of white and blue and redand green hung like luminous fruit from the branches, or clustered instars and crescents upon the buildings.
"Why, Richard, you are as bad as Farmer Colin."
"'O Patty! Soft in feature, I've been at dear Vauxhall; No paradise is sweeter, Not that they Eden call.'"
whispered Dolly, paraphrasing.
At that instant came hurrying Mr. Tom Tyers, who was one of thebrothers, proprietors of the gardens. He was a very lively young fellowwho seemed to know everybody, and he desired to know if we would walkabout a little before being shown to the boxes reserved for us.
"They are on the right side, Mr. Tyers?" demanded Mr. Storer.
"Oh, to be sure, sir. Your man was most particular to stipulate the pinkand blue flowered brocades, next the Prince of Wales's."
"But you must have the band stop that piece, Mr. Tyers," cried LadySarah. "I declare, it is too much for my nerves. Let them play Dibbin'sEphesian Matron."
"As your Ladyship wishes," responded the obliging Mr. Tyers, and sentoff an uniformed warder to the band-master.
As he led us into the Rotunda, my Lady Dolly, being in one of herwhimsical humours, began to recite in the manner of the guide-book, tothe vast diversion of our party and the honest citizens gaping at us.
"This, my lords, ladies, and gentlemen," says the minx, "is thatmarvellous Rotunda commonly known as the 'umbrella,' where the musicplays on wet nights, and where we have our masquerades and ridottos.Their Royal Highnesses are very commonly seen here on such occasions.As you see, it is decorated with mirrors and scenes and busts, and withgilded festoons. That picture was painted by the famous Hogarth. Theorgan in the orchestra cost--you must supply the figure, Mr. Tyers,--andthe ceiling is at least two hundred feet high. Gentlemen from thecolonies and the country take notice."
By this time we were surrounded. Mr. Marmaduke was scandalized andcrushed, but Mr. Tyers, used to the vagaries of his fashionable patrons,was wholly convulsed.
"Faith, Miss Manners, and you would consent to do this two nights more,we should have to open another gate," he declared. Followed by the mob,which it seems was part of the excitement, he led us out of the buildinginto the Grand Walk; and offered to turn on the waterfall and mill,which (so Lady Sarah explained to me) the farmers and merchants felldown and worshipped every night at nine, to the tinkling of bells. Shetold Mr. Tyers there was diversion enough without "tin cascades." Whenwe got to the Grand Cross Walk he pointed out the black "Wilderness" oftall elms and cedars looming ahead of us. And--so we came to theSouth Walk, with its three triumphal arches framing a noble view ofarchitecture at the far end. Our gentlemen sauntered ahead, with theirspy-glasses, staring the citizens' pretty daughters out of countenance,and making cynical remarks.
"Why, egad!" I heard Sir Charles say, "the wig-makers have no cause topetition his Majesty for work. I'll be sworn the false hair this goodstaymaker has on cost a guinea."
A remark which caused the staymaker (if such he was) such hugediscomfort that he made off with his wife in the opposite direction, tothe time of jeers and cock-crows from the bevy of Vauxhall bucks walkingabreast.
"You must show us the famous 'dark walks,' Mr. Tyers," says Dorothy.
"Surely you will not care to see those, Miss Manners."
"O lud, of course you must," chimed in the Miss Stanleys; "there is nospice in these flaps and flies."
He led us accordingly into Druid's Walk, overarched with elms, and darkas the shades, our gentlemen singing, "'Ods! Lovers will contrive,'" inchorus, the ladies exclaiming and drawing together. Then I felt a soft,restraining hold on my arm, and fell back instinctively, vibrating tothe touch.
"Could you not see that I have been trying to get a word with you forever so long?"
"I trust you to find a way, Dolly, if you but wish," I replied, admiringher stratagem.
"I am serious to-night." Indeed, her voice betrayed as much. How wellI recall those rich and low tones! "I said I wished you shut up in theMarshalsea, and I meant it. I have been worrying about you."
"You make me very happy," said I; which was no lie.
"Richard, you are every bit as reckless and indifferent of danger asthey say your father was. And I am afraid--"
"Of what?" I asked quickly.
"You once mentioned a name to me--"
"Yes?" I was breathing deep.
"I have forgiven you," she said gently. "I never meant to have referredto that incident more. You will understand whom I mean. You must knowthat he is a dangerous man, and a treacherous. Oh!" she exclaimed, "Ihave been in hourly terror ever since you rode against him in Hyde
Park.There! I have said it."
The tense sweetness of that moment none will ever know.
"But you have more reason to fear him than I, Dorothy."
"Hush!" she whispered, catching her breath; "what are you saying?"
"That he has more cause to fear me than I to dread him."
She came a little closer.
"You stayed in London for me, Richard. Why did you? There was no need,"she exclaimed; "there was no need, do you hear? Oh, I shall neverforgive Comyn for his meddling! I am sure 'twas he who told you someridiculous story. He had no foundation for it."
"Dorothy," I demanded, my voice shaking with earnestness, "will youtell me honestly there is no foundation for the report that the duke isintriguing to marry you?"
That question was not answered, and regret came the instant it had leftmy lips--regret and conviction both. Dorothy joined Lady Carlisle beforeour absence had been noted, and began to banter Fitzpatrick upon hislosings.
We were in the lighted Grove again, and sitting down to a supper ofVauxhall fare: transparent slices of ham (which had been a Vauxhall jokefor ages), and chickens and cheese cakes and champagne and claret,and arrack punch. Mr. Tyers extended the concert in our favour. Mrs.Weichsell and the beautiful Baddeley trilled sentimental ballads whichour ladies chose; and Mr. Vernon, the celebrated tenor, sang Cupid'sRecruiting Sergeant so happily that Storer sent him a bottle ofchampagne. After which we amused ourselves with catches until the spacebetween our boxes and the orchestra was filled. In the midst of thisComyn came quietly in from the other box and took a seat beside me.
"Chartersea is here to-night," said he.
I started. "How do you know?"
"Tyers told me he turned up half an hour since. Tom asked his Grace tojoin our party," his Lordship laughed. "Duke said no--he was to be hereonly half an hour, and Tom did not push him. He told me as a joke, andthinks Chartersea came to meet some petite."
"Any one with him?" I asked.
"Yes. Tall, dark man, one eye cast,--that's Lewis. They have come onsome dirty work, Richard. Watch little Marmaduke. He has been fidgety asa cat all night."
"That's true," said I. Looking up, I caught Dorothy's eyes upon us,her lips parted, uneasiness and apprehension plain upon her face. Comyndropped his voice still lower.
"I believe she suspects something," he said, rising. "Chartersea isgone off toward the Wilderness, so Tom says. You must not let littleMarmaduke see him. If Manners gets up to go, I will tune up Black-ekedSusan, and do you follow on some pretext. If you are not back in areasonable time, I'll after you."
He had been gone scant three minutes before I heard his clear voicesinging, "in the Downs", and up I got, with a precipitation far frompolitic, and stepped out of the box. Our company stared in surprise.But Dorothy rose clear from her chair. The terror I saw stamped upon herface haunts me yet, and I heard her call my name.
I waited for nothing. Gaining the Grand Walk, I saw Mr. Marmaduke'sinsignificant figure dodging fearfully among the roughs, whose hour itwas. He traversed the Cross Walk, and twenty yards farther on dived intoan opening in the high hedge bounding the Wilderness. Before he had madesix paces I had him by the shoulder, and he let out a shriek of frightlike a woman's.
"It is I, Richard Carvel, Mr. Manners," I said shortly. I could not keepout the contempt from my tone. "I beg a word with you."
In his condition then words were impossible. His teeth rattled again,and he trembled like a hare caught alive. I kept my hold of him, andemployed the time until he should be more composed peering into thedarkness. For all I knew Chartersea might be within ear-shot. But Icould see nothing but black trunks of trees.
"What is it, Richard?"
"You are going to meet Chartersea," I said.
He must have seen the futility of a lie, or else was scared out of allcontrivance. "Yes," he said weakly.
"You have allowed it to become the talk of London that this filthynobleman is blackmailing you for your daughter," I went on, withoutwasting words. "Tell me, is it, or is it not, true?"
As he did not answer, I retained a handful of the grained silk on hisshoulder as a measure of precaution.
"Is this so?" I repeated.
"You must know, I suppose," he said, under his breath, and with a noteof sullenness.
"I must," I said firmly. "The knowledge is the weapon need, for I, too,am going to meet Chartersea."
He ceased quivering all at once.
"You are going to meet him!" he cried, in another voice. "Yes, yes, itis so,--it is so. I will tell you all."
"Keep it to yourself, Mr. Manners," I replied, with repugnance, "I haveheard all I wish. Where is he?" I demanded.
"Hold the path until you come to him. And God bless--"
I shook my head.
"No, not that! Do you go back to the company and make some excuse forme. Do not alarm them. And if you get the chance, tell Lord Comyn whereto come."
I waited until I saw him under the lights of the Grand Walk, and fairlyrunning. Then I swung on my heel. I was of two minds whether to waitfor Comyn, by far the wiser course. The unthinking recklessness I hadinherited drove me on.
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